When my eyes finally peeled open, the first thing I noticed was that I still seemed to be in control of my body.
The second thing that I noticed was that I was back in the hospital, hooked up to an IV and now an oxygen mask.
I could only imagine how expensive my medical bills were going to be.
When I began to stir, there was a shuffle around the room as someone got up to check on me.
Their figure was still blurry, but I could tell that the silhouette belonged to my mother. I made another mental note to change my emergency contact.
"They found you in the woods," she muttered, her tone obviously displeased. She stood, brushing off her pants. "I'll go get your sister. She's been waiting to talk to you."
I didn't reply, still trying to get my brain to settle. My mouth was super dry. Probably from inhaling dusty demon. There was a glass of water next to me that I polished off within seconds. It didn't quite soothe the dry mouth but I knew I wasn't particularly dehydrated because of the IV. I tried not to look at it, however, because needles made me squeamish.
I put the oxygen mask back on because I never wanted to feel that feeling of suffocating again. With the mask on, no demon dust particles would assault me and I'd be sure to get plenty of air. It was the only thing that made me feel really safe at the moment.
I thought back to what happened.
I was so positive that I would be possessed. Why else would he weasel his way into my body? But when I woke up myself and no other signs of being inhabited, I became confused. What was his goal? Was it honestly just a final way of scaring me? Trying to take me down with him?
As I brooded, Ella knocked on the door, startling me from my thoughts. She looked a lot better than she had in the last few days. She had seemed so tired, but now she almost looked normal.
"Good morning," she whispered with a smile. I vaguely waggled my fingers, not really having a whole lot of energy to have a full conversation. She took that as an invite and let herself in, our mother nowhere to be seen, and sat in the chair beside my bed. "You did it, Em." She said in a choked voice.
I looked at her confused. What had I done?
She gave a breathless chuckle, putting her hand on mine. "Lilly's recovering. She ate today. She hasn't gotten sick once. She did a complete 180." I guess I must have still looked confused because she continued. "Whatever you did in the forest to get rid of Harly worked. He's gone."
I stared back for a minute before looking away. I mustered the strength to pull my oxygen mask to the side and try to tell her the story. I had to pause a lot, put the mask back on and breathe, then continue. I had no idea I'd fight for breath this bad from suffocating earlier. I shouldn't have anything blocking my airways unless Harly's remains coated my lungs.
I shuddered at the thought.
"Well," Ella thought, leaning back in her chair. "It's weird, yeah. But shouldn't something happen if he was still here? It's been almost two full days since they found you in the woods." I startled. I had been asleep the whole time? "Which scared me to death, by the way. I have a sick kid and now my sister is passed out in the woods, struggling to breathe?"
I couldn't even apologize for scaring her. I was still confused as to how I had been asleep for almost two days after that. Did it take a lot of energy to banish Harly? What exactly happened in the woods?
I spent yet another few days in the hospital, apparently my second home as I recovered from this. I didn't try to rush it this time. It was reconfirmed by Lacey and Lance that Lilly was doing fine. She was almost back to her normal self, and she didn't mention Harly once. She just chattered away about nothing. The thought brought a smile to my face.
My breathing eventually sorted itself out. I didn't need the oxygen mask after the second day. I had probably just become dependent on it after sleeping for two days.
El rotated visitation every day, bringing Lance and Lacey with her. I could see they were still uncomfortable admitting what happened to me. As was I. We just didn't talk about it.
I told myself I'd properly grieve and feel sorry for myself when all of this was over, but it felt like I missed my opportunity. I was still sore, and the memories still haunted me, but everyone was so happy now that this was over, and I felt like I would bring them down if I really thought about it.
The only time I really broke down was my first shower since waking up. I looked down at my body to see the fading but still ugly bruises, how hard it was to move normally. I just leaned against the shower wall and cried for a while.
My nurse actually found me that way when she came to check up on me. I had tried to hide the fact that I was crying but any time I cried my face became red and blotchy so my cover was blown.
However, the nurse simply shut the door to my room and sat with me on my bed after I had dressed in my robe. She held me like a mother would as I cried, reaffirming I deserved this.
"It must be hard," she said, holding my head to her chest. "Something terrible happened to you but you had to cast it aside to worry about someone else." I didn't answer, just quietened my sobs.
Since that day, I just decided to look forward instead of the past. What happened had happened. I needed to learn how to function again despite the trauma that tried to cripple me.
Oddly enough, it was my mother who helped me in that direction.
She had never dropped insurance on me, continuing to make sure I'd be okay if something were to happen to me. Which I was more than thankful for right now as I was no doubt racking up the medical bills.
When I was released from the hospital, she gave me an insurance card. I looked at it confused.
She sighed, as if she shouldn't have to explain why, but did anyways. "Emmaline, no one can go through something like that in a week and be okay." I stared down at the insurance card, still a little confused about what this was going to do to help me heal.
"Go to a therapist." She finally demanded.
I didn't, at first. I wasn't sure how to go about it.
But when we returned to El's house, I started to panic.
She had gotten the place cleaned up. There was practically no evidence that anything had even gone wrong here. The hallway still faintly smelled of paint and cleaning solution. The wood had been replaced.
But I couldn't unsee the blood. Norman's body. What had happened to me that night.
El understood and immediately began looking for a new house. I tried to convince her I'd be fine after a while, or I could just move into a dorm or something at the community college, but she wouldn't have it.
For the next few days, the kids all crowded my bed each night, pretending like they just wanted to cuddle, but I could tell. They were trying to protect me. From what, I'm unsure. But protect me nonetheless.
I decided to try therapy. I didn't want to flinch every time I walked the hall. I didn't want to close my eyes in the shower to keep from possibly seeing something in front of me. I just wanted to be normal.
Understandably, I had to hide the demon stuff from them. I wasn't trying to get admitted into another mental hospital when things were finally looking up.. But I did get help about the abuse and the trauma. And honestly, it really did help.
She taught me a lot about grieving, how people felt after such an attack. Introduced me into a support group of women in similar situations. Between all of this, I started feeling normal again.
The hospital had done various bloodwork and testing on me to figure out what had caused me to asphyxiate like that with no cause (that they know of) and asked me to come back for checkups. The first one went fine, but the second one could be labeled anything but that.
It had been almost a month after that horrible night.
We waited in the patient room as they ran my urine and blood test. I really hated these, mainly because peeing into a cup is one of the most uncomfortable things I've ever willingly done. And I shouldn't have to explain why I hate the blood test. Ugh, the needle.... I shuddered.
"What are you feeling for lunch?" El asked as she casually flipped through a magazine. She had found a babysitter to watch the kids, much to Lacey's disgust. She really felt she was old enough to do it herself but she was still a kid. It made me laugh, which made her angrier.
I shrugged, blowing a bubble from the gum I had bought on a whim at the gas station we stopped at earlier. "Wanna go out as a family?" I asked. I felt like I hadn't really gotten to spend a lot of time with them since we all came home from the hospital. Between juggling therapy, moving into the new house, and me starting college classes, it had been pretty stretched out. "We can check out that new restaurant they opened on Seventh."
We chattered aimlessly about various things until the doctor came back in. We both straightened up, something that had been instilled to us to do around the presence of someone who deserves respect. Thanks, mom.
She, however, looked grim. I noticed it, but El acted on it. "What is it?" She asked, dropping all form of respect and leaning forward. I felt like she couldn't really take any more bad news, so I prayed to any god that would listen that this would be something simple.
"We got the results from your tests back. You're pretty healthy, but you could use some more water." She flipped through the notes, her frown still in place. When she had said 'healthy,' El relaxed. I however didn't.
You know how in horror movies, the music becomes more dramatic in a calm scene to alert the audience that something, something was coming?
I could almost hear it now. Maybe violins. Maybe a cello.
But something was about to happen to forever change my life.
"You're healthy," the doctor repeated, but she pulled her desk chair over and sat down in front of me. "But your urine test came back that you were pregnant."
I honestly didn't hear anything else after that. It was like the dramatic music was deafening. All I heard was panic. I saw El bury her face in her hands. The doctor put her hand on my knee, talking to me in what I assumed was a gentle, non judgmental tone. If I had to guess, I'd say she was telling me I had options.
Of course I had options.
But that doesn't change the fact that right now, currently in this exact time frame, I was pregnant from a less than desirable situation and the father was my first friend I've had in a long time. And he had died, killed by the very monster they wrote horror novels about.
"... some time, think about what you want to do." I finally heard her voice just as the doctor was standing. "This is a hard decision, Emmaline. Just know that no one is going to judge you, no matter the decision. Talk with your family. But in the end, do what you feel is right."
She apologized for me again, stepping out of the room to let us gather our thoughts.